


AI

by Sepia_Tone



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sepia_Tone/pseuds/Sepia_Tone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily Aldaine has survived over two hundred years in a cryogenic stasis to find that the world she once knew is all but gone. Through the course of her travels, she has formed a tight bond with two members of the Brotherhood of Steel. Now Emily must fight to save the lives of her new family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Beautiful Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> My summary isn't great but I wanted to get started and post. Thanks for reading!

_There are two things emotionally unstable friends should not do after a traumatic event:_

_1\. Drink together_

_2\. Fuck each other_

_Thankfully, Danse showed the restraint that I lacked after a shared bottle of bourbon. I wasn’t always a light drinker. In the years before I became a mother, I could drink my husband Nate under the table. Pregnancy changed everything. Ten months with only two glasses of wine to my name, followed by several months of breastfeeding, weakened the alcohol tolerance I had nurtured during my days as an attorney. A normal, respectable mother will tell you that their child was worth the sacrifice. I was that mother until recently. Now... I am a survivor, and survivors do not have the luxury of considering ‘what if?’ We must always move forward._

_Before I forget, I should write down what transpired yesterday. For so long, life in the Commonwealth has denied me the time to reflect. Everything has happened so fast since the day I walked from Vault 111. Now I feel like I finally have some footing in this strange world._

_The day started aboard the Prydwen. I’d woken up to the angelic sound of Scribe Kelly snoring in one ear and some new Initiate mumbling in the other. Whose idea was it to put the beds an arm’s length away in a thoroughfare? I’m going with Proctor Teagan. He always struck me as a bit of a sadist._

_After a discreet wash with a shallow pan of water, and a good teeth brushing, I was summoned to meet with Elder Maxson. Maxson is the twenty year-old leader of the Brother of Steel. Up until yesterday, I had respected his leadership to a point, but I had always remained cautious when listening to his words. His fanaticism had given me pause on more than one occasion. In hindsight, I see now that the reason I remained this long was because of Danse and Haylen. They have become family to me. To some, that alone may not be reason enough to push aside personal morals, but before the Brotherhood, I was part of a loving family. That closeness, in this brutal world, is priceless and I doubt I will find it again._

_But I digress..._

“What are you doing?”

Emily looked up from her journal. Danse was standing at the end of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. It was the second time she had seen him in civilian clothing without his power armor and it still amazed her how very different he looked. The word ‘vulnerable’ came to mind, an adjective that Emily thought she would never associate with the paladin. 

“I’m writing in my journal,” Emily replied. She noticed a shadow of doubt creep across Danse’s face. Was he questioning her motivation or simply curious? “It’s how I work through my feelings.”

“Are you... writing about what happened here?” 

“Yes, Danse, I am. I need an outlet for what I am feeling and I need to make sense of it so I know what to do next.”

Danse rounded the bed and took a seat next to Emily. He closed his hands together and stared down at the floor, seeming to contemplate her words.

“It may not be wise to document what happened here for the Brotherhood’s sake. If anyone finds out Elder Maxson agreed to let me live it could bring his convictions into question.”

The small journal Emily had recovered from her pre-war house snapped shut. “Danse, after yesterday, I don’t give a fuck about Elder Maxson.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I mean every word of it.” Emily rose from the bed, paced a few steps, and turned to Danse. “Fuck him. What respect I had for the man died the moment he demanded your execution.”

“Wait...” Danse moved to stand. The compassion had drained from his face. “Does that mean you do not intend to continue serving the Brotherhood?”

Emily pointed to her journal. “That’s what I was trying to work out. But if I am honest with myself, the only reason I remained with the Brotherhood this long was because of you and Haylen.”

Danse stared down at the woman he had come to respect over several months of serving together, unsure how to respond. It hurt to hear her admission. Anyone else, he suspected, would be flattered by Emily’s words. But Danse had lived and breathed the Brotherhood for years. Some part of him still clung to a strange hope that Maxson would change his mind. It was a ridiculous notion and he knew it but he wasn’t ready to let go. That meant change. It meant going on an introspective journey, one that would question every conviction Danse held dear. He didn’t have much left in the world to call his own, only his beliefs remained.

“You can’t allow our friendship to get in the way of your mission,” Danse stated. He laid his hand on Emily’s shoulder. “You have your career to consider. A soldier...”

Emily brushed her hand through her hair and pushed his hand away. “I don’t want to be a soldier, Danse. I joined the Brotherhood because I needed help and I believed they were my best chance at finding my son. Now that I have found Shaun, there is no reason for me to remain a part of an organization that wants to hurt my new family.”

“Do you even hear yourself? I am a machine, Emily... You had a family. You had people who loved and cared about you. All I’ve ever had that mattered to me was the Brotherhood.” Danse turned his back to Emily and laid his hands down on a nearby desk. A mirror lay on the desk, his reflection stared back at him. He gazed at the image while he spoke, disgusted by the idea that beneath the flesh facade was a machine. Did he look like Nick Valentine underneath, metal and plastic crudely twisted to give a semblance of humanity, or was it muscle and bone? “You can choose to have the life that I want.”

The words filled Emily with a sadness similar to that she had felt upon seeing her husband shot. What Danse needed was compassion, not another one of her selfish lectures. He had asked her to be patient with him as he groped his way through coming to terms with his true identity. She had agreed without a second thought. The reality of that agreement and the hardship of Danse’s journey had just become evident. 

Emily crossed the room to Danse and laid her hand on his arm. She gave it a light squeeze for reassurance, enough to know she cared. “That is exactly why I will not be returning the Brotherhood. I care too much about you to support people who would hurt you. I’m sorry if you can’t understand that, but I hope you will in time.”

Danse nodded and walked away, further into the old listening outpost. It was the cue that the conversation was over. 

_Fuck... Why Danse? Why can’t you get it through your thick head that you are better than the Brotherhood?_ Emily grabbed a packet of cigarettes from her back pocket. Smoking was a nasty habit she had given up after her experimental teen years. But since being thrust in the ass end of the Commonwealth, it had become her only form of relaxation. She had decided to limit herself to three a week and the occasional one when absolutely needed. An addiction was not an easy thing to fund in a post apocalyptic world. _Maybe Haylen can help. Her and I need to speak. If the only reason she is still with the Brotherhood is for safety, then I can make sure she finds safety elsewhere. I’ll be damned if she remains with those bastards._

Emily grabbed her backpack and camping supplies. The Prydwen was more than a day’s journey from the outpost. It was a long trek but Haylen was family as far as she was concerned and family needed to stick together. Perhaps it was a selfish move to try and sway Haylen away from the Brotherhood, but Emily felt a worse fate may await her “little sister” if she remained. 

After checking and then rechecking the supplies, Emily went in search of Danse. It was doubtful he would be willing to speak but she refused to leave without telling him goodbye. The sudden sound of gunfire echoed throughout the listening post. Emily instinctively pulled her laser rifle, Righteous Authority, and headed towards the source. There, lying in a puddle of his own blood was Danse. Emily dropped her rifle and moved to his side. She felt his neck for a pulse. The faint thud against her forefinger reassured her that Danse still lived, but without immediate medical attention, he would bleed to death. Emily grabbed a stimpack from her pack and pushed the needle into Danse’s arm. There was too much blood to determine the exact entry point of the bullet but from the look of the blood covering his face she surmised he had put the gun to his head. 

_What do I do? I have to get help. But who? We are days away from the nearest settlement. I know Maxson won’t lift a finger to help. The Minutemen are beyond our reach. That leaves... Shaun._

Emily administered another stimpack to Danse. “I’ll be back soon with help. You better not fucking die on me, Danse,” she whispered. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead before pressing the transport button on her Pip-Boy. Danse disappeared in the glow of blue light as Emily’s molecules were transported into the Institute. As soon as she materialized, Emily set off for SRB specifically to find X6-88. He was the only hope of saving Danse.


	2. Seeking Aid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and for reading! <3

“Children change everything.” Those had been Nate’s words a week after the birth of his son, Shaun. Beyond his profession, the decorated war veteran had been a loving husband and father despite having lived through the horrors of war. After his last tour of duty, Nate had told Emily that he feared for the world, for his country but most of all for his son. He worried Shaun would not live to see adulthood if the war continued to grow.

But Shaun had lived on. The man he had become... was a different matter entirely and one Emily did not want to consider while strapping mini nukes around her waist. 

_I’m standing here in the middle of the Institute and no one questions why I have decided to make a deadly nuclear fashion statement?_

The scientists and children mulling around in the large open hall merely waved when Emily made eye contact with them. None asked what she was doing. In many respects, the Institute functioned almost like a hive mind. It reminded her of the last visit with Shaun. She had asked him the Institute’s purpose, curious to know their long-term goal, and he had replied:

“The purpose of the Institute is to annihilate every last trace of the pre-war culture that contributed to the end of the world, and to recreate the surface in the Institute’s utopian image.”

Emily had not responded to Shaun’s declaration. As she recalled from history, those who had attempted to create a utopian society always failed. What the current world needed was not the ideology of an insular group of scientists, but a concerted effort to rebuild and help one another. Speaking to Shaun on the matter was fruitless. He was a sociopath hell-bent on completing his own personal missions no matter the cost.

The belt of mini nukes around Emily’s waist was wired to a detonator. This was her contingency plan in case the Institute refused to cooperate.

Emily made a beeline for the Synth Retention Bureau. A synthetic guardsman scanned her as she approached and then cleared her to pass through the doors of SRB without question. _If I pull this off it will be the last time I see the inside of SRB,_ Emily thought. _I can’t say that makes me sad. I’ve seen the recovery and rehabilitation of synths firsthand. I will blow this fucking place sky high before they get their hands on Danse._

Inside SRB, Emily found two coursers working in the lab. The coursers were a type of synthetic police tasked with tracking down rogue synths from the surface. Unlike other third generation synths, the coursers rarely displayed facial emotion. Even their voices were cold. Emily supposed the perfect hunting machine did not need to be able to tell a good joke.

Besides the two coursers, the lab was mostly deserted. It was lunchtime, which meant most of the staff would be in the cafeteria picking out their favorite food supplements or bitching if those food supplements were no longer available. The people who comprised the Institute had no idea how lucky they were to have three meals a day provided. One week of radroach meat and Emily was certain they would never complain again.

The unmistakable sound of gunfire alerted Emily to the presence of X6-88. In the middle of SRB a shooting range had been built for the coursers to practice and gain experience with different weapons. Life in the Institute was fairly mundane and predictable. But above, on the surface, a person never knew what they were going to face on a daily basis. It could be raiders, deathclaws, super mutants, feral ghouls — just to name a few of the many things that killed on sight. 

“X6-88, I need to speak with you,” Emily said. “It is urgent.”

The courser holstered his laser rifle and turned to Emily. “Hello ma’am. Do you require medical attention?”

Emily looked down at her well-worn Brotherhood of Steel chest piece. It was covered in a heavy coating of blood. “No X6-88. That’s not my blood,” Emily lowered her voice. “I need you to come with me to help retrieve an escaped synths. He is badly injured.”

“What is the synth’s designation?”

“I don’t know his official designation,” Emily lied. She was certain that it would raise more questions if she were to give away Danse’s designation. They did not have time to waste. “I just know he is a synth.”

“It is odd that he would reveal his identity to you, ma’am. Perhaps we should consult Dr. Ayo before proceeding to the surface.”

_X6-88 and his fucking logic..._ “He is hurt and in need of a doctor,” Emily replied as calmly as she could manage. Synths, she had noticed, had an uncanny ability to pick up on the slightest inflection in the voice. Danse excelled at pinpointing when she was telling a lie. His brethren weren’t any less annoying. “We do not have time to explain the situation to Dr. Ayo. We must go now or he will die. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” X6-88 answered. “But I must warn you, ma’am, that if this an attempt at deception it will be met with lethal force.” 

“I never doubted it.” Emily gestured towards her Pip-Boy. “Here are the coordinates.”

X6-88 made a mental note of the coordinates. A flash of blue erupted before Emily could ask if the courser was ready to depart. In an instant they were standing at the door to the old listening outpost. 

“This way,” Emily instructed. Once she was certain the courser was following, Emily ran towards the entrance and headed straight for the elevator. X6-88 trailed behind, taking a moment to study the remains of a turret. 

Emily waved X6-88 into the elevator. “We need to go.” 

X6-88 entered just as the door was beginning to shut. “The debris indicates a recent discharge of laser radiation.” Emily looked up at the courser whose eyes were covered by sunglasses and tried to read his expression. There was no emotion to be found, not even a raised eyebrow. “Did the synth destroy your defenses, ma’am? Were you forced to retaliate?”

Emily shook her head. She could feel his cold stare boring into the top of her head. Coursers were professional synthetic bounty hunters. They did their job well and were most likely programmed to take pride in each capture of a rogue synth. Unlike Danse, and other third generation synths, the coursers spoke in monotonic voices devoid of emotion. Even when there was no need to fear them, Emily felt intimidated by their presence. She supposed that had been the point of their creation.

“I destroyed the defenses,” Emily said. At least it was the truth. “Once inside and below, I found the synth hiding here.”

The elevator door opened. Emily ran full force out of it and to the last room in the listening post where Danse lay wounded. The sight of him, covered in blood lying unmoving on the dirty floor brought tears to her eyes. 

“Please be alive,” Emily muttered as she searched Danse’s carotid artery for a pulse. 

“Ma’am, with all due respect, why do you care if this synth lives?”

Nothing. No pulse. Emily dumped the contents of her pack on the floor and retrieved a stimpack. She immediately gave Danse a shot in the arm. 

“I value all life,” It wasn’t a lie, but the whole truth was far more complicated. Danse meant the world to Emily. He had shown her a side of humanity that she had believed died when the bombs fell. If any one deserved to live it was Danse. “I’ve seen my fair share of death since the day the war began. I don’t wish it on any one.”

X6-88 assessed the situation. “It was a close-range shot to the head. A caliber pistol was used to deliver a single blow.” The room went silent while the mechanical man considered the situation. “This was a self inflicted wound, ma’am.”

It was faint but finally there was a pulse. Emily closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s alive. But we need to go. Now.”

Perhaps, X6-88 mistook Emily’s tears for compassion or maybe he could not conceive that an actual human loved a synth as much as any person can love. Whatever the reason, the courser asked nothing else of Emily. He transported the three of them directly to the Institute sick bay.

“Dr. Volkert, your assistance is needed,” Emily said. The head physician for the Institute was sitting at his terminal typing up reports. “Hurry up!”

The middle aged doctor rushed from his desk straight to Danse. The pristine white Institute floor was covered in his blood. “Why has this man been transported here?” Dr. Volkert asked. He continued to examine Danse while he awaited an answer. “I received no warning from Father.”

“He is a rogue synth,” X6-88 answered for Emily. “Designation is unknown. Mission unknown. He should be sent to SRB for processing once medical treatment has finished.”

The doctor gestured to Danse. “Help me lift him onto a bed. I think he can be salvaged but I need to get a better look at his head.”

X6-88 lifted Danse’s limp body from the floor with ease and laid him gently down on a sick bay bed. Before Dr. Volkert could take a step towards Danse, Emily blocked his path.

“Now you listen to me, doctor,” Emily said. Her voice was raw with emotion. She held out the detonator in her hand and pointed to the mini nuke belt around her waist. “You are to do everything you can to save his life. If you do anything to alter him, deactivate him or hurt him, I will end you.” Emily noticed the small crowd of scientists that had gathered just outside the sick bay. She turned to address them. “I will end you all.”

Gasps and whispers erupted from the scientists as the severity of the situation became clear. 

X6-88 pulled out his laser rifle and pointed it directly at Emily. “Ma’am, I must ask you to give me the detonator.” 

Dr. Volkert turned to the courser. “Put your gun away,” he managed to say. The quiver in his voice gave away the fear he felt. “There is enough nuclear material strapped to her to reduce this place to rubble.”

X6-88 looked at Emily and then the doctor and back again. Emily was beginning to wonder if the synth had the logical subroutines needed to handle the current situation. Thankfully, X6-88 decided the best course of actions was to holster his gun and walk away from Danse’s side. 

“I will apprehend this synth for the Institute once he has received medical treatment,” X6-88 said to Emily. “It is my duty.”

Emily wished she could see past X6-88’s sunglasses and into his eyes. “And my duty is to keep my family safe. We all do what we must.”

X6-88 nodded in agreement. He took a seat in Dr. Volkert’s chair behind his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. It amused Emily. The courser was attempting to wait the problem out. He had obviously not dealt with a stubborn woman before.

Dr. Volkert set to work under the close supervision of Emily. During the procedure the doctor was forced to explain every incision, decision and indecision he had while working on Danse’s head. There were times Emily had to look away. Human innards were a common sight on the surface. It could not be avoided. But this was different. It was her friend’s body and it hurt emotionally to watch him suffer. 

Towards the end of the procedure, Shaun entered the sick bay. The avid disapproval on his face was unmistakable but Emily was not intimidated. She was too exhausted and traumatized by Danse’s attempted suicide to care.

Shaun took one look at Danse and sighed. “Of course it would be M7-97 with my mother.”

Emily wasn’t sure what to make of the comment. It was accusatory, as if Danse had set out to ruin Shaun’s day by shooting himself in the head. “Then... you know about Danse?” Emily asked. “Did you do this to infiltrate the Brotherhood? Was that his mission?”

“No,” Shaun answered. His voice had been but a barely audible whisper. “M7-97 served a different purpose. More than that I will not say at this time. You and I need to speak in private.”

Emily shrugged. “How do I know that he will not be harmed when I leave? If you alter him Shaun, I will...”

Shaun held up his hand. “The threats are unnecessary. SRB has been instructed not to interfere. No one wants this to end in unnecessary violence.”

It was obvious Shaun was eager to speak his mind. Emily suspected it would be the type of rant he would not want the other scientists to witness in case they suddenly began to mistake him for a person with feelings. 

“Fine,” Emily said. “But I want you to understand that I have every intention of carrying out my threat.”

“I believe you,” Shaun replied. “Come. Let’s continue this discussion in my quarters.”

The director of the Institute watched his mother squeeze M7-97’s hand before joining his side. _This is... unexpected. I cannot deny that I am both somewhat amused and bewildered by what I have witnessed here today. My mother appears to feel genuine affection for one of our creations. It is surprising and yet... I feel it is not wholly unexpected. Fate is a ridiculous notion, but one must ask: what were the odds my mother would find the one man in the Commonwealth that was created from the DNA of her late husband Nate? I wonder how she will react when I tell her? This should prove interesting._


	3. Unhappy Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews and the kudos! I am thankful for your support!
> 
> Sorry for the delay in updating. The build up to Christmas has slowed me down.

Emily counted the last days spent in the company of Nate and Shaun, before the bombs fell, among her happiest. The sleepy woods of Massachusetts had transformed into an electric display of color with the arrival of autumn. It had always been Emily’s favorite season. She had carried Shaun outside to admire the colorful leaves on the large maple tree at the end of their quiet street. She and Nate had spoken about their upcoming trip. They would be spending Thanksgiving with his family this year. Emily’s in-laws were a nice, prim and proper middle class American family that had never fully accepted the marriage. It was as if they were waiting for Nate to wake up one day and realize that a woman from the west side of the Charles River was not from proper stock. Emily had been born and raised by a stay-at-home mother and by a father who had been a groundskeeper at Fenway Park. The family had struggled at times to pay the bills, but even though they had not been able to buy Emily luxuries, they had provided a solid and happy childhood. Emily could remember sitting on her father’s lap while he mowed the grass at the baseball park. During a game, the family would cheer on the Red Sox while drowning in large cups of Nuka-Cola, buckets full of popcorn and hotdogs almost too large to bite. Nate, on the other hand, had spent his childhood weekends with piano teachers and tutors.

There were many fond memories of family that Emily had dreamed of telling Shaun when he was older. But Shaun, the one who she had awoken to meet two hundred years later, was not the Shaun she had imagined in her daydreams. This Shaun had been raised in a deranged science experiment instead of being part of two dysfunctional families separated by the Charles River. It was true that the Institute had saved Shaun from the hardship of the apocalyptic hell that raged on the surface, but Emily found that life preferable to being removed from society. There were many good people on the surface who understood struggle, who worked together to try and bring back some semblance of life and in doing so formed tight bonds by overcoming adversity together. The Institute mocked their way of life by believing science could provide everything people needed. But it simply wasn’t true. Emily had always believed science and technology were meant to be tools to improve the human condition, not become its mantra. Shaun had been brainwashed over the course of sixty years to believe that the Institute could do no wrong. It was too late for him, but it wasn’t too late to make certain the Institute never hurt another family again.

Shaun allowed Emily to enter his quarters before him. It was the first gentlemanly gesture she had witnessed. As far as she was aware, Shaun was a bachelor, which was fortunate, since he excelled at the role of mad scientist. Once the door to the bedroom shut, Emily put aside thoughts of family. She needed to remain alert and ready for Shaun’s next move. It was doubtful he was going to allow her and Danse to leave peacefully, or, at all, depending on what suited the Institute’s purposes. A plan was needed, one that did not involve the threat of nuclear detonation. For now, there was time enough to ponder alternatives while Danse recovered from surgery, assuming he survived. 

Shaun offered Emily a seat. She ignored his gesture of hospitality and remained standing. “Say what you must quickly, Shaun. I’m in no mood for one of your manipulative games.”

“I wasn’t aware that we had, at any point, participated in a game.” Shaun gifted her with a brief antagonistic smile that Emily contemplated smacking off of his smug face. “Tell me... what do you know of M7-97?”

“Danse,” Emily corrected. “His name is Danse and I trust him with my life. He is family to me.”

It was not the first time Shaun had discovered a human attachment to one of the Institute’s synths. But, unlike the others, this felt personal. This was his mother, the woman he had idolized in his younger years while he watched the other children in the Institute interact with their parents. Shaun had always known on some level that imagining what his mother might be like was a dangerous preoccupation. The director of the Institute had forbidden him to ask questions of his family unless those questions held some scientific merit. If he were honest, being denied the information had filled him with a stubborn determination to one day become director so that he could finally know the truth. Now that his real mother stood in front of him, albeit sixty years younger, Shaun realized that he had the opportunity to get a glimpse into what his childhood might have been like if history had turned out differently. 

Shaun decided to take a seat in the hope it would create a less threatening atmosphere for Emily. It had put him on edge to watch the mini nukes around her waist clank together every time she became animated. “I assume Danse was unaware of his true identity?”

“Danse had no idea that he was a synth.” Emily paced a few steps. The mini nukes rattled in the wake of her walk. It was enough to make Shaun hold tighter to sides of his chair. “Thanks to me, the Brotherhood of Steel found out. Now he lives in fear for his life every single day.”

“Ah yes, the holotape... you supplied the Brotherhood of Steel with information from my own personal database.” The surprised look on Emily’s face amused Shaun. “Did you really believe I would not take precautions? 

“No,” Emily answered in truth. “I just didn’t think you would admit that you knew I had stolen the information. I... get the feeling that secrets keep this place running.”

“A certain amount of caution should be expected, especially from an organization that is feared and hated by the ignorant.” _So... M7-97 has returned to me, Shaun thought. I was certain I had seen the last of him. This does present the Institute with certain opportunities. I believe there is a great deal to learn from the relationship my mother and M7-97 have formed. It may be the key to solidifying our hold over the Commonwealth._ “Would you be kind enough to tell me the story? I’m interested to know how the Brotherhood of Steel reacted when they learned Danse was a synth.”

Fatigue was setting in. Emily’s shoulders fell, as she thought back to events of the last week. “It all happened so quickly. Proctor Quinlan had decoded the holotape. He found a picture of Danse and his synth designation. Elder Maxson confronted me with the information. He believed that I was complicit, that I must have known Danse was a synth, but after a firm reply, he decided to retract his accusation.”

Shaun recalled from the Institute’s file on his mother that she had acquired a law degree. The way she spoke of the incident with Maxson clearly showed that she was no stranger to debate. He would have to choose his words carefully. “The Brotherhood of Steel has adopted a guilty until proven innocent policy, I take it?”

The comment made Emily smile. It was reminiscent of her own strange sense of humor. “Well... the Brotherhood is understandably cautious. The Commonwealth isn’t exactly a bed of hospitality, Shaun.”

“Let me ask you something else, if I may,” Shaun began. The last thing he wanted was to discuss the Brotherhood. They had proven to be a nuisance since their arrival in the Commonwealth. One slip of the tongue and he was certain his mother would become aware of his fear. “At any point during this incident did you risk your life to save Danse?”

Emily’s finely arched eyebrow raised. The conversation was heading into uncomfortable territory. “Why do you want to know?”

“Call it scientific curiosity.”

For a brief moment, Emily thought better of telling Shaun the truth, but when it came to Danse, she found it difficult to lie. Just thinking about him brought a smile to her face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I knew if I disobeyed Maxson’s orders I would most likely be executed.”

“Why would you risk your life to save a synth?”

Emily looked up at Shaun, deep into his eyes and answered. “Without Danse, I think... I might have ended it all. This world is a fucking nightmare. I keep waiting to wake up from it and have your father wrap his arms around me and tell me everything is fine. But...” The tears began to fall from Emily’s eyes. She made no effort to wipe them away, unashamed of the pain she felt. “I can’t wake up. This is real. I have hated every day since I walked away alone from the vault.”

Shaun felt true sorrow for his mother. He, better than anyone, knew what she had endured to find him. To see the past through pictures, antiques, books was a painful reminder of what had been lost, but to have lived during that time, and then be faced with the present day apocalyptic hell had to be nothing less than torture. Emily was a true survivor and Shaun would never deny that it was nothing short of miraculous what she had accomplished during her brief time in the Commonwealth. If he were honest, it made him proud to have such a mother.

Shaun leaned forward in his chair in an effort to bring a sense of closeness to the conversation. “A person rarely risks their life for a stranger, or even a friend, therefore I can only assume that you formed a kinship with this synth before you became aware of his true identity. That is unfortunate. No human should risk their life for a tool.”

_Too late. I’ve already risked my life more times than I care to count to find the biggest tool sitting before me,_ Emily thought. She looked away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve in attempt to hide her smirk. 

“I had always wondered when it would happen. I had hoped...” Shaun’s eyes drifted towards the deactivated child synth in his room. It had been a major part of his life’s work; an effort to recapture the childhood he had been denied. “M7-97 had been my first dream. It was a weird, almost godly feeling to bring that dream to life.”

“I thought, perhaps Danse was a courser? The way he speaks...”

Shaun interrupted Emily with a shake of his head. “M7-97’s linguistics were derived from pre-war military field and technical manuals. The other aspects of his personality were based upon a source of holotapes and personal logs I was able to acquire over the course of years.”

“He wasn’t created to replace the real Danse? He’s done a magnificent job of infiltrating the Brotherhood.”

“No,” Shaun answered. “M7-97 was a personal project of my own. I wanted to see what we were truly capable of creating here in the Institute.”

There was something Shaun wasn’t telling her and Emily wanted to know why he was skirting around the truth. “Then what was Danse’s intended purpose?”

Shaun rose form his seat. He grabbed an old bottle of whiskey from the top of his dresser and poured a glass. “Would you care for a drink?”

In one quick gulp the whiskey disappeared. Emily was impressed. She didn’t think Shaun was the sort to let his hair down in front of others. “I am already nursing a hangover from last night. Think I will give it a pass.”

“Before I reveal the technicalities behind Danse’s creation, I want you to understand that I never intended to divulge this information to you or to anyone. But I feel that you deserve the truth, especially since it is obvious that you harbor feelings for this synth.”

“On second thought, I will take you up on that offer of a drink.” Emily walked across the room and took a drink straight from the bottle. The taste was unlike the whiskey she had come across in the Commonwealth. It was fresher, more potent and didn’t have the strange dirty aftertaste of a bottle discovered in a pile of rubble. “I’m not going to like this am I?”

“Doubtful,” Shaun replied. He held his glass out to his mother for more whiskey. Instead of a single shot, Emily filled it to the brim. Shaun managed to knock it back in two mouthfuls. It was obvious what he did during his alone time. “Every member of the Institute is aware that third generation synths were created using variations of my DNA. But what they do not know is that there is one synth that was created from a different donor, a dead donor...”

“My father.”

Pain, followed by confusion, contorted Emily’s face. “Danse was created from Nate’s DNA?” The mention of Nate always brought back the memory of his helpless expression right before Kellog pulled the trigger. “Why would you...” 

“I believed it would give me an opportunity to know him,” Shaun whispered. “I told you originally that I had not given much thought to my parents during my younger years in the Institute. But that was a lie. I never stopped wondering what life with you and father would have been like. And now...” Shaun laid his hand on his mother’s shoulder and offered her a warm, but slim smile. “...of all the people you have encountered in the Commonwealth, you have come to care for the same man again. It gives me hope.”

Emily pushed Shaun’s hand away and slammed the whiskey bottle down on top of the dresser. Many of Shaun’s personal items were thrown from the surface. “They may share the same DNA but I promise you they are not the same man! You may think you are God but you aren’t, Shaun.” Emily started to walk away. She paused at the door and briefly looked back at her son. “I am thankful that Nate did not live to meet you.”

Long after his mother had stormed a path out of his room, Shaun stared at the door. There was, for the first time, a part of him that questioned whether or not he had gone too far. Synths had been created as a tool for the Institute. No one had designed them with family replacement in mind. This had been both his greatest achievement and biggest failure, for as much as Shaun tried to deny his attachment to the synth child created in his image, the truth was that he considered it a replacement. It would get the opportunity he had never had; to know both of its parents.


	4. Father and Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I apologize for the long delay in update. Life is just busy at the moment. Thank you for the reviews and for the kudos. It is much appreciated. I'd also appreciate feedback. I have many ideas planned but I have no idea if the story makes sense to people. I keep trying. :D

A week had passed since Emily had spoken with Shaun. The majority of her time had been spent at Danse’s side contemplating what she would say if and when he finally awoke. Dr. Volkert had stated that synths, unlike humans, were more robust, that their bodies were able to withstand and repair internally thanks to their enhanced synthetic blood. The doctor’s reassurances had not offered Emily much comfort. The sight of Danse’s bandaged head and unmoving body was enough to make the situation feel hopeless. When it became obvious Emily was not taking his words to heart, Dr. Volkert ignored her presence, up until the moment it became clear that she intended to sleep in the sick bay with a string of mini nukes still attached at the waist. The doctor, to Emily’s disbelief, stood his ground and told her no, that it was time she and Shaun find a compromise. After Emily refused to negotiate, Dr. Volkert went to the director and explained the situation. Shaun was quick to act. He had kept his distance from his mother, certain she had no desire to speak with him since their last conversation. For now, that suited his purposes. In the meantime, he decided to be a gracious host – provide Emily with quarters, fresh clean clothing and give her free reign of the Institute. 

Shaun’s peace offering was received with a healthy dose of skepticism. Emily had always been cautious, even as a child. She accepted Shaun’s offer of hospitality but made it clear that her opinion of the Institute was not going to be easily swayed.

Once Emily had settled into her new quarters, she used her clearance to access the Institute’s database for information on third generation synths. After learning they had a thing for Fancy Lad Snack Cakes, Emily had asked X6-88 if he would be willing to retrieve some the next time he went to the surface. The courser was still unhappy with her, but he had agreed on one condition: she consider disarming the mini nukes. She had promised to think it over even though she had no intention of relinquishing her only bargaining chip. There would come a time when escape plans would have to be finalized. So far, the cafeteria had a promising set of spoons for tunnel excavation. Realistically, she was going to have to convince Shaun to let her and Danse leave.

It wasn’t long after Emily had settled in that the doctor had been instructed to move Danse to her quarters. This had come as a surprise. Emily had been under the impression that Shaun was devoid of a heart. Regardless, she firmly believed Shaun had his reasons and that those reasons had nothing to do with charity.

Emily remembered from the days of visiting her father in his rest home that it was important to continue to communicate even if it appeared the person was not aware. She formed a routine with Danse. In the mornings she would read to him from a book of poetry in the hopes some part of him was aware that he was not alone. Later, in the afternoon, Emily would brush his hair, shave him if necessary, hold his hand and stroke his arm. Touch was important to all biological creatures and she believed Danse’s biological body needed the same affection and reassurance as one would give to any human. In the evenings, Emily would speak to Danse of the past, days with her family, lazy afternoons with Nate watching movies, dinner parties, sporting events and even the birth of Shaun. After two weeks of waiting for some sign that Danse was improving, Emily realized that she needed a hobby. The scenario was too similar to the one she had lived through when her father had been at the end of his life. Without something positive to balance out the day in and day out depression, Emily realized it could compromise her ability to think clearly. If they were going to get out of the Institute, she needed to remain mentally stable.

Emily grabbed a packet of flower seeds from her pack, one of many she had found while on the surface, and marched straight to Shaun’s quarters. The director of the Institute answered the door looking somewhat confused and startled to see his mother again.

“Come in if you will,” Shaun said. He gestured to the interior of his room. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to come see me so soon...”

Emily pushed the seed packet into his face. “I found these along with several packets of bulbs. I want a space to grow them. If you say no, I will most likely go insane and blow this place sky high just to end my misery. Where can I plant them?”

It wasn’t the best sales pitch Shaun had ever heard but he had to admit that the threat of potential nuclear detonation due to depression could not easily be dismissed. According to the surveillance video from Emily’s quarters, she had spent the last two weeks with M7-97. The lack of companionship was no doubt beginning to take its toll. 

“Bioscience is at capacity,” Shaun answered. “Perhaps we could spare a hydroponic table for your quarters and a full spectrum light.”

“I have a better idea,” Emily replied. She laid her hand on her hip and held Shaun’s gaze while she spoke. “We could clear out the FEV lab since all research on live subjects is hereby now and forever terminated.”

The look of surprise on Shaun’s face was priceless as far as Emily was concerned. During her first visit to the Institute, and thanks to Dr. Virgil’s intel, Emily had uncovered an entrance to a secret lab located within the Bioscience sector. Inside, she had found evidence that confirmed the Institute’s research on live, and most likely, unwilling test subjects. They had all died horrible deaths.

“I was not aware that you were given access to that particular laboratory,” Shaun said. “It remains quarantined.”

Emily moved closer to Shaun. “Let me explain something to you. From this day forward the Institute will no longer kidnap people from the surface. If you ignore this warning you should know that I will personally see to it that your very special, very clean “facility” is reduced to rubble.” Emily smiled and moved away. “So... since the FEV lab is no longer relevant, how about giving me the manpower to clean it up?”

Shaun placed his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet. The annoyed expression on his face softened into a look of acceptance that mirrored that of his father after losing a marital argument. It reminded Emily that Shaun, no matter how much she denied it, was in fact her son. Yes, he was a monster; a ruthless, cold-hearted bastard that thought nothing of experimenting on innocent men, women and children. But, regardless, it was the life she had chosen to create with the man she loved over two hundred years ago. _My mother wasn’t joking when she said life is full of disappointment,_ Emily thought. _I’m not sure the word disappointment even begins to describe this situation._

“Fine,” Shaun said. “I will assign a small group of synths to oversee the preparations for you.”

 _Oh, he’s good,_ Emily thought. _I see what you did there, Shaun. If I agree to allow synths to clean up the lab for me then that would make me a hypocrite. I can’t move the test equipment myself and he knows it, so he has placed me in a no-win situation... or so he thinks._

“I have a better idea,” Emily said. “I have friends on the surface that would be more than willing to come help me and they’d get a tour of the Institute to boot. My mother always said old fashioned hard work was good for the soul.”

“You know that is out of the question,” Shaun replied. “You have proven to everyone that people from the surface are not to be trusted.”

“Somehow I’m not upset that your people do not like me,” Emily said. “If you won’t allow me to bring in outside help then I request X6-88.”

“Why X6-88?”

“I know he possibly kidnapped some of those people you experimented on. So he can help me clean it up. That’s fair.”

“Are you aware that X6-88 is not easily coerced?”

“I am also aware that he is going to hate working beside me. I find that entertaining.”

Shaun nodded. “If he declines to help?”

“I will find a way,” Emily answered. “With or without help.”

“Would you prefer it if I assigned humans to do your bidding instead?”

“Only if it’s Ayo. I hate that bastard.”

“Understandable. No one likes Dr. Ayo.”

“Out of curiosity, how is anyone here a doctor? Last time I checked, universities ceased to exist.”

“We have instituted our own institution,” Shaun replied. He smiled briefly. “No pun intended.”

“That does not fill me with confidence.”

“The proof that our teaching method is a success can be found in every sector of the Institute. We have followed strict guidelines laid out by the original CIT board to ensure a doctorate is given only to those who qualify for the honor.”

Emily did not doubt that every person in the Institute with the title doctor had earned it and was qualified to be called such. It simply amused her that they bothered with the title since it held little meaning to the rest of the world.

“Nice chat,” Emily said. “I’m off to find X6-88. I assume he is in SRB.”

Shaun placed his hands behind his back and stared down his nose at Emily. “That would be my assumption.” Mother and son held each other’s gaze for a moment. Shaun could see the disappointment in his mother’s face. Not once had she gifted him with any expression that came close to approval. “Would you...”

“What?”

“Nothing. It was a ridiculous notion,” Shaun waved his comment away. He turned to leave and then stopped. “Would you care to have dinner with me this evening?”

“On one condition.” 

“I do not understand why there must be a condition... but so be it. Name it.”

“I get to tell you about your family.”

Shaun nodded in agreement but said nothing. Emily watched him disappear back into his room. The request to dine together had been unexpected. But try as she might, Emily could not find a reason to hate the chance to speak to her son of his family. It almost made her happy.

Emily walked down the stairs in slow, methodical steps while she considered what stories she would tell Shaun. Their family history was an interesting one and perhaps through telling it, Shaun would realize that he was more than what the Institute had conditioned him to be. There had once been a large group of people excited by his arrival into the world, good people who had wanted to help raise a loving, respectable human being. War and the Institute had torn the family into pieces. Maybe there was a chance to help Shaun find some of his humanity even now. Emily had to at least try.

At the bottom of the stairs, Emily noticed X6-88 standing by the main elevator in the atrium. He approached as soon as she had finished her descent. “Good morning, ma’am. I am told that you require my assistance.”

“Shaun contacted you?” Emily asked. “I’m surprised. I thought for certain I was going to have to beg and plead for your help.”

X6-88 did a quick survey of the atrium. Once he was certain no one was within earshot, he moved closer to Emily and lowered his voice. “The director would prefer it if the lab were cleared without drawing attention to the contents.”

“Ah, I see,” Emily said and she smiled. “Shaun is worried his fellow scientists might not approve of his unethical research, eh? Well he needn’t worry one grey whisker about it. I’ll make sure to keep it our dirty little secret.”

X6-88 cocked his head to the side and seemed to consider Emily’s words carefully before offering a reply. “Forgive me ma’am, but I did not believe you cared for the Institute’s methodology. As I recall, you told Dr. Ayo he could shove his clipboard up his...”

“Nevermind, X6,” Emily said. She noticed one of the Institute’s resident children standing behind the courser. “This is not the place to discuss my grievances. I think we should proceed to the lab. We need to figure out how we are going to dismantle the containment tubing and where we are going to bury it.”

“Agreed, ma’am.” 

As soon as Emily and the courser disappeared from the atrium on their way to Bioscience, Shaun activated his synthetic child representation. Little Shaun blinked a few times and then smiled at Father.

“You know where to go?” Shaun asked the synth. “Her quarters...”

“Of course I know how to get to mother’s quarters from here,” Little Shaun replied. He stopped at the door. “Goodbye.” Shaun held up his hand but urged the boy onward with a gesture of his head.

Little Shaun walked straight to Emily’s quarters stopping only once to admire the view of the atrium and the people walking through from a balcony high above. Once he was at his destination, the door to Emily’s quarters opened thanks to an override code provided by Father. The room was just as little Shaun remembered. Father had programmed the synthetic child to believe he had been away visiting a friend of the family. As far as little Shaun was concerned, Emily and Danse were his parents. It was part of Father’s plan to experience family through the use of his synthetic younger self, and in doing so, hopefully convince his mother that the Institute could be her home.

“Mom?” Little Shaun asked. He checked each room until he finally came upon Danse. Emily had given Danse her bedroom, the one with great lighting and a magnificent view of trees and grass. Little Shaun approached what he believed to be his father. “Dad?”

There was no response.

Shaun grabbed Danse’s hand and held it while examining his face. “I do that too,” he said to Danse. “I always pretend to be asleep when mom comes into my room to tuck me in. Then when she’s gone, I go back to reading my comic books.”

An electrical impulse surged from Shaun’s small hand through Danse’s body straight to the chip buried deep inside his brain. Danse’s eyes flittered open and after a few blinks he looked at the little boy standing next to his bedside.

“Son... where am I?”


End file.
